


under

by made_of_lions_and_wolves333



Category: Moana (2016)
Genre: F/M, Slow Build, hooked wayfinder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-03-16 22:57:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13646184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/made_of_lions_and_wolves333/pseuds/made_of_lions_and_wolves333
Summary: When the vision of ‘true love’ comes to mind, Maui is nowhere to be seen in that image. He can’t be, she can’t let him to be there. She doesn’t even allow herself to entertain the thought that often...[Hooked Wayfinder]





	1. Unrequited

 

 

Under the rays of a red-burning sun, Moana catches her breath from the last dive and grips her damp hair in both hands, pulling it forward over her shoulder to ring it out. The excess water runs down like rain on her skin.

Stunned by the following silence, she glances back. “Maui?”

His hands flex open at his sides, then curl up tightly again before he simply looks away.

 

 

 

 

Moana enjoys the company of Islander boys. She won’t deny it. She may be the Daughter of the Chief— the future of her people, yes— but she’s still primal, adventurous, and well, she has always been a curious soul. She’s the one who leads the seasonal fishing voyages after all, and if The Ocean has taught her anything after all this time, it’s to understand that there’s a balance in life to maintain. Her youth and spirit is no exception.

Moana favors a healthy challenge. She doesn’t like to shy away from new experiences. There’s a time to work, but also time to play. A time for responsibility, a time for leisure. A time to be stern, and a time for flexibility. And it’s not as if her tribe frowns upon the possibility. In fact, it was inevitable from the start. It’s the norm. Their people expect Island leaders to seek suitors, to find love and lust and human connection, eventually to bare offspring one day. 

 

 

 

 

Moana’s first wanted kiss was after a night dance, with Kaoriki, under the palm trees highlighted by the full moon. They were actually playmates as children, when Gramma Tala used to draw the shades down and recite the stories of Creation. ( _"I'm going to throw up!"_ he'd cried out once, tripping over her father. Moana still finds it sweet and laughable.) Once their boats were revealed to everyone years later and finally pulled out from the shadows once more, Kaoriki was one of the first people to congratulate her, openly impressed by her motivations.

Then, a full summer later, there was Lawai’a, who toyed with her and teased her, which Moana completely accepted and precipitated. It was a more exciting form of courting then.

 

 

 

 

 

The thing is, her people are easy to read, easier to adapt to. Her people are no mystery. It’s flattering, and a comfort. Moana is not afraid to relax in the midst of her generation, all of those familiar comrades who regularly go fishing with her.

Though, _Maui_ , is different. Moana cares for him, deeply and respectfully, true. But lately... he has been starting to scare her in a way that Moana wasn't anticipating. On the mere surface, everything’s standard, ordinary, and looks as it should; however, there is definitely _something_ emerging from the depths and it feels like it’s putting cracks in the foundation of their friendship.

And today, after hours of him frowning and (distantly) gazing down at the water, all she can think to ask him right now is, “Are you angry with me?”

“No, Mo,” and he sounds perfectly honest, “of course not.”

“Well, you just seemed very preoccupied with your own thoughts this morning. I had to check.”

“I’ve been thinking about some things, yes.”

“Oh. So is there something you want to tell me?” she asks through a playful smile. “You can tell me anything, Maui. I won’t laugh at you... or, I’ll try not to.”

He continues to stare at her, unamused, and surprisingly detached from her attempted humor. She stares back at him, and soon, there _i_ _t_ is again, this unsaid feeling she isn’t that used to having yet, not while she’s around him. The tension between them thickens and Maui’s hardly blinking. He wants to say something. It’s there in his eyes, but whatever it is, he just doesn’t let it out.

She notices the subtle shift in his following expression as _it_ fades out of sight just the same. He’s packing down the secret again and into his core where nobody else can find it. He silently turns back towards the boats, with nothing else, gently shaking his head.

Moana is mildly offended by this response... or the lack of thereof. Or, she's a bit worried for him perhaps. What exactly is Maui keeping from her? What is so significantly private that he can’t trust her? As close friends, they tell each other everything.

(Well, she tells _him_ everything, and he mostly listens.)

She then realizes, with a small pang of regret, that Maui might still harbor a lot of scars on the inside, too, which they have never discussed in full detail.

 

 

 

She skillfully follows the beat of the celebratory drums and keeps up a good rhythm with her fellow dancers.

(Maui is watching her footwork with immense concentration.)

Afterwards, when she can rest and have a bite to eat, she decides to sit next to him near the fire. She thinks he tenses up for a moment, either uneasy or annoyed, but she never hears a complaint.

 

 

 

 

 

“Even I have standards,” she jests, vaguely, and shrugs as they wander further down the beach.

Maui scoffed, laughing deep in his throat. “And it seems that you have greatly lowered those standards to accommodate the _boys_ you’re in love with instead of raising them to give the real men even half a chance.”

Mockingly appalled, Moana huffs dramatically, and tries whacking her fist into his arm as some form of punishment for speaking to her like that. But obviously she doesn’t count on the force of her blow against his sheer, solid muscle to be as hard as it is, which makes her stumble out of nowhere. Thankfully Maui reacts on instinct, catching her by the elbow before she crashed into the sand. She grabs hold of his his wrists in return, obliged, and steadies herself.

Though even _this_ is turning into a _moment_ , something it’s really not, for Moana feels awkward when Maui’s amusement distorts itself into a look of longing. He looks into her eyes and doesn’t release her right away.

“I should go,” she pipes up suddenly, pulling back, using with a tone that's laced with forced prominence. “They still need me over there. It’s not fair to just ignore my duties.”

 

 

 

 

 

Moana is busy being her charming self, smiling along with her supporters and loved ones, bathed by warm firelight. When her eyes drift aside curiously, briefly, and they find him over here sitting by the tribal elders, Maui can’t even manage smiling back at her. She bites her lip, calculating what to do now— how to react— he knows this. He _knows_ what she’s probably thinking because he can read Moana’s behaviors as well by now as he can wayfind.

He watches her watching him, almost daring her to do precisely what he expects her to. She does.

Moana ducks her head, breaking eye contact and distractedly allows her female friends to drag her forward. 

They brush past him in ear-shot, all giggling and lightheaded by all the festivity, and Maui's insides clench when they invite the boys of their age group to join them as well.

One of the boys seems very, _specially_ familiar with Moana because he focuses on her presence immediately without a second thought, and apparently there are no boundaries there. Moana's face lights up with relief and grants him a hug. After, the boy nudges her shoulder with his, and takes her hand in his as the flock of wild teens moves on, aiming for the shadowy line of the jungle. (Where there are no parental units to supervise them.)

Little Maui springs to life and gestures madly, suggesting that he should say something out loud to the elders, to ask if it’s normal for all their varying nieces and nephews to sneak off into the jungle at night while there’s a grand celebration already in motion; but then, Maui reflects back and reminds himself that it’s not his place. He’s probably done wilder things in his early years. As matter of fact, he _has_. He’s the Trickster, highly accustomed to mischief, raised by the gods since infancy, and therefore has naturally developed a thirst for magic, sensations, and forbidden treasures.

Little Maui begins to pace to and fro across his belly, clearly irritated. " _Well..._?"

Maui casually slaps his inked counterpart still, calming him down. “No. I’m not doing that,” he mutters even if though it certainly feels like he’s missing out.

 

 

 

 

 

Maui’s been gone for several months now, adventuring on his own again, which he does on occasion. But it’s alright. Moana doesn’t blame him.

She’s genuinely happy to know that he’s still being true to his nature, or that he’s not letting one single island hold him down from experiencing the growing wonders of all Creation. 

 

 

 

 

 

Sex with Kaoriki is relaxed, predictable, and not stressful at all. He knows exactly what to do to make Moana breathe heavier or squeal in excitement. She is conditioned to his body, to the way he moves, the way he likes to kiss her against a tree. Sometimes, she tiptoes up to his hammock if he’s sleeping outside and just lay there with him. They’re not really in love, but they do have that mutual something, a level of trust and serenity, that’s irreplaceable.

 

 

 

 

Maui advances on her, cornering her in, causing her to flatten herself against the familiar panels of the boat. She carefully splays her fingers over the dull wood behind her.

Maui’s stride and looming stature is almost too predatory, that Moana is left wondering if she should actually drop and _run_.

Run where, though? It’s an open beach, encircled by the jungle’s gloomy darkness. Should she try hiding under the boat? Of course not. Maui could literally shove it aside just as easily with his brute strength. So, Moana reconsiders. After all, in the haze of her confusion, she remembers there is nothing to fear. This is Maui. But then again, why does she feel like she’s being constricted, slowly losing air? He’s never been this close to her deliberately. He’s never looked at her quite in _this_ manner either. (Distressed. Deep. Jaded. Imploring.) Like he's been stung. His hand somehow, eventually, lands on the spot between her hip and ribcage.

Is he ill? Is he worried about something? Is he trying to memorize her or something? Moana starts to laugh shortly, nervously, unsure what else she’s supposed to do next.

She idly pushes against his chest, hoping to inch around him if she can. “What’s with you?”

“You have no idea, Mo,” he says gruffly. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

 

 

  

 

 

“... What did you just say?”

It’s pointless for Maui to repeat himself, because Moana does have sharp ears, and she understands what he meant by it. And, he’s said it! Maui has said that one thing Moana never once prearranged. She’s not ready for this. She’s never _asked_ for this. She has _suspected_ it, maybe, yes, she has. She has dreaded it coming true, somehow hoping it wouldn't, praying to the heavens that it will not get so complicated and stay far from total chaos as possible. But, here they are anyhow, and surely the gods insist on mocking her tonight, don't they?

“You heard me,” he states, not fooled by her false confusion.

“Why?”

“Because I needed to tell you, at least once.”

“Maui...” She is _so_ sorry. She’s pleading that this is a dream, and it's not actually happening like this. “I don’t... know what to say. I... I think it’s too difficult for me just to give you a simple answer.”

“It is simple, Moana. You either feel the same way, or you don’t.”

So recap. Why is Maui a special case in this story? Because he’s _Maui_. He is the same Maui who sailed with her to restore the Heart of Te Fiti. He’s not a common Islander. He is the legendary Demigod of the Winds and Sea. He’s centuries old and quite knowledgeable, and will never age at the swift rate humans do. He’s also smug and childlike at times, but typically, he knows what he is doing when things have to get done. And he’s _supposed_ to be untouchable. He’s too important to the world. And _that_ troubles her the most.

When the vision of ‘true love’ comes to mind, Maui is nowhere to be seen in that image. He can’t be, she can’t _let_ him be there. She doesn’t even allow herself to entertain the thought that often.

“Maui, listen. You are truly one of the _best_ friends I’ve ever had... and I would like to always be here for you. But the truth is, I can’t promise you that. I just can’t.” Moana backs off, gingerly, looking guilty, and she’s forced to leave him standing there with his breaking heart for the rest of the night.

Oh, _gods_ , help them.

 

 

 

Moana’s awoken early that following morning by a tired and confused Hei Hei pecking at her fingers, most likely thinking they were worms.

Sina quietly emerges under the wooden arch when Moana moans, gently pushing her pesky rooster away. “Maui says he is leaving now, in case you wanted to know.”

_No._

Moana blinks up at her mother, and without a further word, she jolts to her feet, all flustered, still wearing her casual skirt with no beads or leaves. She ties up her tangled hair, and dashes down to the bluffs. She can luckily make out Maui's form against the rising light, ready to take flight and raising his Hook. 

“Maui, wait!”

He pauses on cue, facing her, still bearing his Hook high. He looks puzzled at first. “What is it, Mo? What's wrong?”

Moana finally skids to a dusty stop, panting hard until she blurts out, “May I... please explain something to you?”

“May you?” There’s a shadow of a smile tugging on his lips, equally baffled and humored by her leading choice of words, but he clears his throat. “Yes, sure, you may.”

“This has never bothered me before.”

“What?”

“This,” apparently Moana is already frustrated or she's still fatigued by the morning mist, or both. She motioned to the space right between them meaningfully. “Attraction, attention, affection, whatever you think it is. It never bothered me that much before when it was with others. But since it’s you... it does. Now it scares me.” Maui tries to remain calm, composed, but the small creases outlining his features clearly harden nonetheless. “No, no, wait. What I meant, was—”

"— I sincerely understand, Mo, really. You’re not in love with me. I hear you, so I apologize. I’m sorry that my feelings have become such an inconvenience for you.” The remorseful expression forming on her face currently vanishes, and _he_ can tell that last bit wounded her too, to some degree. The hurt is being replaced by a silent fury, and that fire spreads through her veins, making her ball up her fists. His heart drops, mildly caught off guard by this. But he refuses to make it _better_ in fear that he’ll actually just make it worse than it is.

"I wasn't _trying_ to scold you, Maui. I said what I said yesterday because I truly believe that we have no future. It ends badly for you no matter what I say otherwise. I’ll grow old. I may fall sick one day and die. You won’t. You will always be as you are now. And I can’t be the only woman you want to live for. And you've said _repeatedly_ that you were trapped on that island for a thousand years before I washed up on shore...”

“I did not settle for you, Moana, if that's what you are hinting at.”

“But it’s hard for me to accept that. Why would you just limit yourself like that, Maui? I was practically the only person you've spoken to after that long. And now, you have the entire world at your fingertips again. Your penance is over. The gods rewarded you with the ultimate freedom and you could potentially have any other woman, anywhere, and you have the time to find her. Don’t you at least have the desire to explore that?”

As iffy as she feels, she doesn’t chase him off when he comes closing in on her.

And kisses her.

Moana goes still against him, and beyond her better judgment, she lets it go on for moments longer than she really should have. She’s honestly just glad there’s no one else here in plain sight watching them. When he straightens himself, taking a large step backwards, there’s a new touch of desperate optimism upon his face, and that makes her feel like a complete monster instead.

(She might as well go over and smash in the shells of all twenty baby turtles she’s recently gathered to release safely back to The Ocean while she’s at it!)

“I thought that over, too,” he informs her, lightly and carefully, “and what if you were to come exploring with me?”

Moana now bows her head briefly, wanting to cry. “Maui, no. This is not supposed to be about _me_. My people need—”

“Don’t,” he begs suddenly, after it sinks in and he realizes she’s not changing her mind. “Please, Moana, just promise me one thing, alright?”

With that, he fondly grasped her dominant hand in his, and presses it firmly on his chest, over his heart, right where the little tattooed image of herself is forever branded onto his skin.

She sniffs. She hates this! She hates the fact that Maui has fallen in love with her overtime, and neither one of them has even expected it.

She hates that he cannot control it, and she does not have the power to change it.

“Have a long, good life, Moana. Be happy.”

She doesn’t have to ask him why he’s physically drawing away from her at this point, or where he's going. This must be the breaking-point. This is goodbye, for who knows how long.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

By and by, the winds and seas bring Maui back to Motunui. It’s been three years since he’s last seen Moana.

He finds her at the smaller lagoon on the wayward side, ankles-deep in the waves, busy rinsing out a large clay pot. She’s also sporting a new look these days, which he supposed makes sense considering she’s older. No longer dressed in all reds and browns, those colors have been traded in for a grand color scheme of blues, whites, and greens. Knowing Moana, it’s most likely to complement The Ocean itself. Her hair is beautifully decorated with strung pearls and a couple of freshly-plucked flowers. What's more, Moana has even earned some tattoos after he left, apparently. Her wrists were now ringed with thick inked bands, which resemble the rising waves. And on the flat of her back, Maui can just make out the lines of Te Ka fading, merging into Te Fiti waking up in full bloom, also the spiral that holds her Heart.

“Hey, Mo.”

She quickly snaps to full attention.

“Maui!” Wading out of the water, she merely tosses the pot aside and wipes her sandy palms off on her sides, smiling. She practically jumps into his arms. “It’s really you!” she squealed into his hair as she hugs him freely and tightly.

"Eh, of course." Deeming the welcoming embrace is enough, Maui decides to set her back onto her feet. He inspects her over once more now that she’s up close and personal. He swallows heavily. “You look good, Cheif.”

“Thank you,” she beams, beside herself with bubbling joy. “And you look good as well. You’re safe, and you’re here!”

“Indeed I am.”

“What made you come back for a visit?”

He shrugs, half-heartedly. “Curiosity, I guess.”

 

 

 


	2. Jealousies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to those who reviewed and encouraged me to update sooner than I anticipated!
> 
> Tell me how the current continuation is...

Maui is sort of taken aback by an uproar that has the Islanders bustling today, gathered up, like a flock of sea rays migrating home all around. He follows Moana with wide, wandering eyes. Hardly any of her people take notice of his return, or, they just pause to wave and shout their hellos at him _—_ then go running off again. Embroideries are hanging off roofs and clothes lines. Lei are woven around various poles and doorframes. The tribe’s main hut in the center of everyone else’s is the most decorated one. It is a lively, colorful setting that screams importance. A special occasion. And evidently, everyone’s very busy making sure it all goes well for whoever it’s for, that all the details are heard and finished.

Maui is ready and quite tempted to ask Moana what this means, but, _“— Wait, Moana! Chief! Maui!”_   then he’s cut short by another familiar voice altogether.

A young girl is making her way towards them, clearly wanting their full attention. Moana stops, flashing her a warm smile. The girl sprints the rest of the distance between them. “The aunts want to see you again for a moment.”

“Oh, of course they do,” Moana sighs teasingly. “Maui, I’ll come find you as soon an I can manage to escape, alright?”        

So, in the blink of an eye, Moana turns and leaves him alone with the child.

“It’s about time you showed up again,” she chides him suddenly. Casually and freely, unfazed by his towering shadow. “I still can’t believe you simply _left_ like that for so long.”

Maui recognizes her now. Realization sinks in. “Is that you, Malani?”

It’s been a while, but Maui remembers this girl’s attitude more than anything. Malani (Moana’s youngest cousin from her mother’s blood) was always a fiery child. She was unafraid, and just a brat most days. In other ways, she resembled Moana on the inside and outside, which is why Maui would show Malani a tad more favoritism back then. She used to love his stories as a youngling. Though even now, she is still quite lean and straight all the way down, and her hair’s still mud-brown rather than sheer black.

“Where have you been?” 

“Nowhere special, kid. Just everywhere. All over. But, ah… I came in to see your cousin… your Chief, actually. The tribal boats have been beached for longer than usual, is all. I thought something might be wrong?”

“The fishing season just ended. That’s why. But don’t worry about us. The elders say we have plenty of provisions left to spare, even after the wedding.”

“The wedding?”  

“Oh, you didn’t hear yet? Moana’s marrying Koariki, so she’s been trying to make everything so perfect.”

Maui plainly stares back down at her in silence, trying to understand what he’d just heard. Is she mocking him? No, she isn’t. How could she? How could she know?

“Oh,” he finally comprehends, sounding it out. “Moana’s marrying Koariki.”

“It’s a bit strange, I know. Even Moana thinks it’s funny how it all happened like this. But at least she’s willing to do this as our Chief. Besides, it still makes her happy to see him happy.”

_“Malani!”_

“I should go. That’s my sister calling.”

 

 

  

“Maui is visiting the island?” Kaoriki's eldest aunt glances around, fretting over the bridal skirts and making the fourth and fifth aunts huff. “Now of all times, when there’s a wedding driving us all mad?”

“I don’t mind, Auntie. No one should. Even he’s welcome to attend the ceremony.”

“The chances of him returning at all, and it happens to be today? A fortnight before? Perhaps he already knew about the wedding?”

“I doubt it. It’s been three years since we've spoken to him personally and up close, correct?” the third aunt adds.

Sina comes to stand near her daughter, mixing herbs for the paints. “I hope Kaoriki isn’t that nervous about this, having the Demigod here again to watch. Do you think he should take advantage of the state of affairs and ask Maui for a blessing?”

Moana laughed lightly. “Koariki does not _need_ Maui’s blessing.”

“Nonsense.” the second aunt pipes up finally, “Maui is your friend, and he’s magical. Just think of it! A Demigod and a Chief, a part of the same wedding? It’s meant to be. Just encourage Kaoriki to ask Maui to sanctify the marriage. Grant him some luck.”

 

 

 

 

“There’s to be a big wedding for this island,” Tui informs Maui next, coming down the hill to greet him formally. The sun soon peeks through the soft gray clouds to shine down upon the favored elder.

Maui nods. “You must be proud of Moana, for taking on such a responsibility. It’ll be life-changing.”

“Yes. Even our strongest allies from the south are coming in to watch the ceremony. Two islands shall reunite and become one family once again. It is an exciting time. Moana is sure she can go through with it without any trouble. She’s being stubborn as ever. But, my wife and the aunts believe you are still fit to help Moana with the last part. Just consider it.”

“I’m sorry, which part?”

“Your assistance, during the ceremony. Give her your support.”

“She has that already,” Maui states, frowning slightly.

“Well, whatever you decide, Moana is very much counting on you being there, too.”

 “… Really?”

“She doesn’t actually _need_ you there, or to do anything. She just wants you to watch and enjoy it.”

Maui pauses, bluntly, biting back some distain; though old Tui doesn’t see it. “Moana… said that? She really wants me there, _just_ so I can watch her marry Kaoriki and to do nothing other than _enjoy_ it? ”

“Of course. Why else would she choose to invite you?”

 

 

 

 

Later that night, as Moana finally manages to flee the playful banter of Kaoriki’s eight older brothers, the light teasing of her cousins and uncles, _and_ the constant gossip and orders of the aunts— she joyfully rushes up to Maui’s familiar silhouette sauntering by. 

But, something’s off. He doesn’t easily acknowledge her presence as he normally would.

“Maui, what happened?”

“I just have some important things I need to tend to, Moana. I’ll be leaving tonight.”

“Tonight?” she worries, “Will you attend the wedding? You should, come see it for yourself.”

“Why, indeed?” Maui demands simply. “So you can prove how much you don’t need me?”

“What are you getting so angry about? I've just _told_ Koariki's family that if you don’t want to say anything about it, then don’t, you don’t have to. There’s nothing you have to do.”

“So I’ve heard.”

 

 

 

 

 

“Malani,” Maui says, catching her error, “that’s the wrong knot to hold that steadily. Here, watch what I do, alright?”

He kneels to her level, untying the thick dry line of rope from the new-raft-in-the-making and slowly creates the correct knot, demonstrating it for the girl.

“… Say, Maui?”

“Yes?”

“Do you love her?”

“Who?”

“My cousin; who else is there? Are you in love with Moana?”

“What makes you assume that?” Maui questions carefully. It feels like a test.

“You’ve sailed alone with her to Te Fiti and back. You helped her to hone her skills in Wayfinding.”

“And that instantly makes us lovers?”

“I don’t know for sure. I’m thirteen.” Malani shrugs. “But then, you _did_ tell me that you only came back to our island to see her. Explain that.”

“No. I _told_ you that I was worried about not seeing the boats out on the water. We solved that mystery.”

“So, then, why come see her? What are you to her?”

“Her dear friend?” Maui stresses, as if it’s already obvious, and that's that. 

“My mother says men and women are not supposed to be friends with each other. They can’t be. Sudden jealousies always get in the way eventually. That’s how wars get started.”

Maui couldn’t help but to laugh cynically at her comments. Ah, why yes, there are many other stories he could tell Malani now. Stories about chiefs and kings losing their damn wits over much-wanted queens.

“Well,” he decides, “your mother might have a point there.”

“So, you agree? But how can you be jealous of a wedding? That's what I do not fully understand.”

Maui continues to snort in derision, but he fails to rebut this time. He’s silent, somewhat sore about this _child_ snaring him into having a theoretical debate over romance and the what-ifs; now he was actually stating to dwell and _fixate_ on these things. Again. 

“Would it be the same for Moana? If _you_ were the one marrying someone else in nine days, Maui, do you think my cousin would be jealous over that?”

“I can’t say.”

“Would you _want_ her to be jealous?”

“Jealously _is_ an ugly feeling to have, Malani. So, no, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Especially not Moana. It can start wars, remember?”

“You’re so daft, Maui.” 

The mood is shifting. And the child is growing more daring.

“What in Lalotai’s name is this anyway, kid? An interrogation? The wedding is not mine! I’m _not_ getting married here, and it’s going to happen no matter what I say.”

“Honestly, though. I'm sure that Moana is not trying to make you feel jealous on purpose.”

“I don't care. I still think it’d be pretty stupid of her, or you, to go out of your way to _make_ anyone jealous.”

“Never? Even if it’s only for a little while?”

“Why, kid?” Maui raised a bow at her, incredulously. “Why would you even try?”

“You say jealousy might be ugly, Maui, and my mother says that’s how wars get started... but, isn’t that a little satisfying, too? At least, you _know_ you’re wanted by someone else...”

 

 

 

  

 

 

“My sister told me that you are spending a lot of time with Malani again these days. I think she really missed seeing you.”

Maui smiles down at the Lady Sina, shrugging with a quiet sense of pride. He’s _always_ ready to amuse gullible children, making them all wild and fidgety, itching for more stories of his old glory days. “She’s an interesting kid; reminds me of your daughter.”

Sina continues on with her currently task: husking, breaking, milking, and draining a large batch of coconuts. “Well, last night Malani herself had hinted that you’re deeply concerned about Moana standing before the alters and marrying her childhood infatuation? Is this true?”

“What? No. That is, I never said those exact words, mind you. Why did Malani say that?”

“You tell me. Are you worried that she'll make a mistake and possibly be humiliated? Don’t you think Moana can do it?”

He blinks in return. “Well. Why not? Are _you_ worried?”

“We all are,” Sina reasons. “This wedding is a serious matter for all of us. It promises securer unions and cooperation. It means everything to our earnings and fishing trade besides. As our Chief, Moana cannot take this notion lightly. She loves her people and I know she still cherishes Kaoriki, but that doesn’t mean arranging this ceremony won’t be easy. It’s not supposed to be easy. It takes patience and commitment to get it down perfectly.”

 

 

 

 

"Oi, Maui! Maui! Did you hear? Did you hear that Moana is—"

"Marrying you. Yes, yes, I’ve heard, Kaoriki. It’s not really a secret, is it?”

“Forgive me," the boy backs away two paces. "Is this poor timing for you?”

“You have no idea,” Maui mutters under his breath.

“See, I didn’t mean to bother you, truly. It’s just that… my mother and the aunts are urging me to ask you for your blessing, as a Demigod. I think it’d mean a lot to Moana as well. She's fine with it either way, she said.”

Maui sighs. “Why doesn’t Moana simply ask me for that herself? She’s very capable of doing so.”

“She tried, apparently. But you… you keep flying off on her these days, I hear.”

… After Te Fiti, after letting Moana reconnect with her own people and her heritage, things had gotten a little easier for him, a little better by the day. He felt refreshed and validated, to a stronger degree.

Yet, still, that changes nothing. Moana is not his. She is _not_ his. He of all people realizes how important that freedom is, even if it pokes at old wounds. In addition to this thought, it is The Ocean who had chosen Moana first. Even if he was Maui, the great Demigod of the Winds and Sea. The Ocean had the advantage. The Ocean beat him to it.

Thus, Moana is not his to govern, or to covet. Or even to give away on a whim. Right? 

“Don’t ask me,” he strictly advises Kaoriki. “Go to The Ocean for your desired holy blessing instead. Perhaps you’ll get your answer there.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Kaoriki’s boat and his crew of six men go missing three days later, Moana has panic burning behind her eyes all afternoon.

She’s trying so hard to remain calm and collected and responsible, but she can’t fool her parents, or Maui. They know that she wants to leave, that she’s feeling another surge of Wayfinder’s fever. She wants to rush out onto the open waters to find the said absent groom.

She didn’t sleep that well either that night, so it’s very, very early in the morning when she settles to set sail regardless of the inconveniences.

Maui, naturally, volunteers to accompany her. He gets all the necessary provisions as Moana begs her parents and cousins to fill in for her again, to stall the entire wedding if necessary. Their neighbors from the southern island would be arriving any day now and there’s no sending them back. 

 

 

 

 

They spend three more days sailing, and the Ocean is actually soundless for once, not reacting to any questions.

“Why would Kaoriki _even_ insist on sailing out if I am to marry him so soon?”

Meanwhile, Maui does his best to distract her, by reciting other worldly legends she hasn’t heard in a long time. Though Moana keeps interjecting, hinting that he’s got the stories all wrong and she corrects him. He huffs back at her, reminding her that _he’s_ the Demigod who has been there to _see_ it all happen, so _he_ knows the truth. Neither of them is willing to surrender. They can’t stand to let the other have the last word. So they don’t shut up.

Their bickering match echoes off the waves, long into the night. The passing birds and fish all scatter away from the boat entirely as Maui shapeshifts into a shark-headed-man-beast in his fury, gnashing his fangs at Moana in the end.

She just stands there unblinking and smirks, hand on her hip. “Throw a tantrum all you want my dear Maui, but I’m still right.”

 

 

 

 

 

Beneath the coming starlight, Little Maui jolts up and pulls on a large strap of ink, letting it release to snap Maui's shoulder, seeking attention. With a grunt, Real Maui flicks back at him. “What’s that for?”

Little Maui eagerly signals towards Moana who was resting at the moment, laying on her back and stargazing, visibly lost in thought.

_Do something. Say it. Why hide it now?_

“But what should I tell her?” he whispers back. “I don’t see the point of sharing every single detail now if it’ll just burden her more.”

 _You are being selfish_ , Little Maui scolds _, you know you are_. _Don’t be afraid of telling her. She’ll forgive you sooner if you just say it. She’ll despise you after if you won’t._

“No, she won’t. It doesn’t matter what I said or didn’t say….”

“Maui?” Moana suddenly calls out to him in apprehension. “You seem distracted. Would you like me to steer for a while?”

He sighs. “No, Moana, I’m alright. Little Maui is just a bit hyper right now. It’s nothing.”

 

 

 

 

 

Maui’s engulfed with his regular boring routine. He inspected the ropes, the sail, the rafts, making sure everything was in its proper angle or position. He ate some fruit and downed a flask of boiled water and coconut milk, soon informing Moana that he’d fly ahead to see what’s there.

She seems thankful and watched his hawk-form soar up high.

 

 

 

 

 

It’s so pleasing to fly again, to have the wind grazing through his wings, as the waves rolled idly and endlessly beneath him. The skies were peaceful, calm, and ironically clear right now.

Maui swoops and rises, turning gracefully through the nightly mist there and back; and he can once again make out the shadowy shape of Moana below while a pod of handsome swordfish breach the surface around the boat. He can hear her laughing, saying hello to them. 

Contented, Maui flies faster and higher, meeting the moon, and dived straight down so his feathers skimmed across the water, liking the thrill.

 

 

 

 

 

They change course, tracking the far western currents and looking for any signs of boats that belonged to Moana’s people— but, with no luck— there’s surprisingly nothing. 

 

 

 

 

 

Moana actually dozes off once night falls, and Maui does not make it a priority to wake her this time. She was overwhelmed and utterly wiped, understandably, so he lets it slide.

He essentially steals this moment to poke his oar into the water meaningfully, personally eager for the Ocean’s attention.

He deems it time for him to try prying again, in hopes of creating a private council between deities. “So, Ancient One,” he ponders, “what are you trying to do to her exactly? She’s losing her mind over this. Can’t you see that?”

At last, the Ocean relents and responds. A narrow stream of it finally takes shape, and it rises to greet him face to face like a giant watery snake.

“Do you know where the boy is?”

The Ocean looks aside slowly, as if confused, and it refuses to point out a general direction. Perhaps this is the closest thing to a signal Maui is going get tonight. “Where is he? Surely you can sense him! You have eyes and hears all over the seafloor.”

The Ocean simply remains as it is, a still eyeless serpent, waiting for him to continue.

 “Alright, tell me this. Why keep it from Moana then, if you refuse to answer me? She doesn’t deserve this. Help her out, like you did in the past! Stop punishing her just to annoy me!”

The Ocean motioned again, most likely agreeing with that statement. Then, it intentionally beckons him on.

“What... what am _I_ keeping from her?” The Ocean nods, quicker this time. Maui takes sharp offence to this. “How would I know where he went? It’s not _my_ fault the boy left!”

For that response, Maui is hit by an irked spit in the face. A thin blast of water suddenly shoots forward like a sure arrow, splashes on impact, and drenches his hairline.

Maui does his best to brush the water off, and slicks his damp hair back. “Why would I— argh! — what are you on about? I did nothing to chase him away. All I said was to get your blessing instead of mine, and— and, no, wait! No. I am not taking the blame here. It was still his decision to sail out. It’s not like I held my Hook to his throat and forced him to leave the island!”

And yet, they both know, deep down, Maui possesses a moral compass stronger than his cutting words. He’ll deny it out loud, but his softening expression shows the truth. He knows what he did, and the Ocean has caught him in the act. It is not granting him any slack right now.

Maui sighs heavily in saddened defiance after the water merely sink back down under the surface and resettles.

“Shit!” he hisses, pounding his fist against the wood. 

“Maui?”

“Mo, you’re awake? Sorry.”

She shakes her head, and now stands closer with purpose and wanting. “Alright, Maui. Enough of this. No more tricks or riddles. You’ve been acting very odd since we left home and I don’t understand why you won’t just say _anything_ about it.”

“I… I was only persuading your Ocean to urge us along, but, it’s not in the mood tonight.”

“The Ocean is not my slave, Maui. It cannot always solve my problems, remember? And since when is the Hero of All so desperate that he forgets his own powers? Don’t you have faith in yourself to help me?”

“It’s not just that, Mo.” He swallows.

“Go on...”

“I do need to tell you something.”

“Alright. Tell me.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
